Page 40 of Tacos & Toboggans
“He got a call from the hospital. They need his help, so I sent him on his way.”
“The life of a doctor, I suppose,” she said. “Is he returning for you?”
“He doesn’t know how long he’ll be. I told him to go, and I’d beg for a ride,” I said, folding my hands the best I could by my chin.
“Sit,” she said, laughing. “I’ll get you some pie since there’s no way you had time to eat it already.”
“I sent it with Major as payment for helping with the cookies,” I said, sliding my butt over the stool, and she slid another piece of pie in front of me.
“You two are spending a lot of time together,” she said, leaning against the counter as she pretended to wipe it down.
“Ives,” I said as a warning while I stabbed at the pie with my fork. I wanted to ask her if she knew he was an amputee, but since I didn’t know for sure, I refused to spread rumors or worse, reveal something he didn’t want known. He hadn’t told me, which gave me the distinct impression he wanted it that way.
“I’m just sayin’,” she said, holding her hands up as she laughed. “Do you have everything you need? Are your bills getting paid?”
“I have everything I need and then some,” I promised. “You’ve been so generous in providing food for us while I recovered. As for bills, I haven’t seen any yet, but it hasn’t been that long.”
“It’s my understanding that you shouldn’t see any bills between the two policies, so if you do, bring it to me.”
I nodded until I swallowed the first bite of pie, which made me whimper a bit at how good it was. “I will, and come to think of it, I’d better stop over at the post office. They’re holding my mail. I haven’t picked it up in a week.”
“Why are they holding your mail?”
I tapped my fork on my plate. “I didn’t have an address to forward it to.”
“You do now. Just have it forwarded to Major’s.”
“That feels weird and oddly permanent, Ivy. I can keep picking it up from the post office until I get an apartment. It’s not out of the way.”
“Except that you’ll need an address to rent an apartment,” she reminded me. “You can’t use the old house when you haven’t lived there within thirty days.”
“See,” I said, shaking my head. “This is why people can’t get a damn apartment when they’ve been unhoused.”
“But you aren’t unhoused, so don’t make it harder on yourself.”
“I’ll do it Monday,” I promised. “Unfortunately, our mail will mix, and that feels weirder, but it will be what it is. Thankfully, I don’t get a lot of mail.”
“Glad we worked that out,” she said with a smirk. “Will you be able to return to work next week?”
“You can count on it,” I promised. “The new splint works great. I only get sore toward the end of the day, but I’m no longer taking pain medication. I should be good to go, except that I’m not sure how much I can carry. It might be smart to schedule me for shifts that aren’t as busy.”
“Do we have any of those?” she asked, feigning shock.
“Fair,” I said with a chuckle. “But you know what I mean.”
“I do, which is why I hired two new servers.”
“Two? I know Chloe took over for Eve. Who else is leaving?”
“Well, you are,” she said, blinking several times.
My fork clattered when it fell from my fingers onto the plate. “Not until spring, Ivy. I need this job.”
Rather than defend herself, she raised her hand and walked to the door, locking it and lowering the lights, a sign to everyone that they were closed for the night.
“We talked about you taking over as manager of the food truck come spring, but that work will begin long before the snow melts. I thought you understood that.”
“Maybe a month or two, but this is only November. Even then, it’s not going to be a full-time job.”
